


The Hound, the Little Bird, and the Huntsman

by OrangeTabby



Series: Australian Outback Stories [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Australia, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Spiders, Stockman, australian outback, cowboy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-14
Updated: 2020-07-14
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:54:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25267954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OrangeTabby/pseuds/OrangeTabby
Summary: Sansa has spent a lonely month at the Bird's Nest Station whilst the mysterious Hound is away droving.What will happen when he finally gets home?
Relationships: Sandor Clegane/Sansa Stark
Series: Australian Outback Stories [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1817686
Comments: 61
Kudos: 151





	The Hound, the Little Bird, and the Huntsman

**Author's Note:**

> TW: Spider
> 
> I think most people would be okay with how I’ve written the Spider Related Content unless they were very arachnophobic. It’s not supposed to be gross or scary or anything like that, it’s quite light-hearted, in line with the rest of the story. 
> 
> [](https://www.flickr.com/photos/159497572@N07/50112976236/in/dateposted-public/)  
> 

Sansa flopped back onto her bed with her eyes closed and let out a slow breath. She was used to wrangling classes of twenty-five to thirty children back in the city. The eleven children who attended in-person lessons at the Birds Nest Station should be a breeze.

They were not a breeze though. More like a cluster of pint-sized tropical cyclones.

The children weren’t naughty. All five Giantsbane-Tarth siblings were impeccably well mannered. The Dondarrion twins, Melody Hunt, Waldenia Frey, Emmie Frey and Jenny Waters were all wonderful kids too. But there was something exhausting about trying to get children practically raised on horseback in the endless red country to sit down inside, at a desk, and follow the approved Education Queensland curriculum.

She would have to change her approach. It was more of a challenge because of the varying grade levels of the children, but perhaps they could do indoor lessons for the first hour or two and then take the learning out into nature. That would work until the heat got too strong in summer, at which point the children might be happy to stay inside the air-conditioned building for longer periods.

Sansa huffed. As exhausted as she was, she was a happy tired. Not for a second had she regretted her decision to move out here.

The only thing spoiling her contentment was the fact that she missed the Hound. He had been off droving for the month she’d been here, staying out with the cattle as they moved around from pasture to pasture following the useable feed. The station owner, Brienne Giantsbane-Tarth, kept a fleet of caravans for her Stockmen for that purpose. Apparently, they formed a mobile village as they followed the cattle over vast distances.

She and the Hound had spent one amazing night together, then had come to Bird’s Nest Station the following day and then he’d gone again.

Sansa was unsure how much she missed him, as a person. She hardly knew him, after all, though they had talked a lot when they hadn’t been engaged in more… intimate activities. She certainly wouldn’t say no to more sex with him though. In fact, she would say a very enthusiastic yes to more sex with him.

She wanted him so much. She’d never have thought the short time they had together would leave such a profound and deeply arousing impression on her.

Sansa opened her eyes again. It was not the time to lie around getting worked up thinking about the Hound.

Sandor.

She had lessons to plan.

A dark blur at the juncture of the wall and ceiling caught her eye.

Her stomach dropped. Only one thing would lurk in that position.

The blur moved down and resolved itself into the large, leggy form of a huntsman spider.

“Shit,” said Sansa, springing out of bed and freezing in the middle of the room.

The spider scuttled down the wall some more.

“Don’t you dare go behind the bed,” she said to it in her best Teacher Voice.

Her house in Brisbane got professionally pest sprayed annually, which pretty much took care of any spider issues. She’d always had people to call on to remove any persistent spiders who defied the chemical boundaries.

Sansa looked wildly around the tiny room. She had neither a large container to capture it in (her preferred option) nor bug spray if she got desperate.

The spider moved again, and she held her breath. She could hear it moving, a whisper quiet pitter patter down the wall. It disappeared into the apparent safety behind her bed and she let out her breath in a gust.

“Shit,” she said again, this time more severely, though if there was a situation that called for the f-word, this was it.

Brienne had billeted her amongst a cluster of cabins where the Stockmen/women with families lived. Someone was bound to be around and would have either a spider catcher or a bowl she could borrow. If she got desperate, there were tubs in the schoolhouse.

If she got really really desperate Brienne might be in the big house. If anyone wouldn’t balk at spider removal, it was the doughty station owner.

Sansa darted outside, not even noticing the wall of hot air that struck her. Instead she collided with a large person, who gripped her upper arms to stop her from bouncing off them.

“Little Bird,” said the Hound. “You in a hurry?”

She looked up into his scarred face, her heart now beating even faster if that were possible.

“Sandor,” she breathed, realising after she spoke that the way she spoke his name was an echo of what she’d cried out on their night together.

After he told her his actual name.

He apparently had the same thought because his gaze grew more intense and the grip on her arms tightened.

“I just got home,” he said, “I was coming to see if you wanted a… coffee.”

In a split second she went from simply agitated, to agitated and simultaneously aroused.

“Oh I want a coffee,” she said. “I very much want a coffee. A big, strong coffee. But,” Sansa paused and looked over her shoulder at her cabin, “there’s a spider inside. A huntsman.”

The Hound’s mouth twitched. “And you were running away from it?”

Sansa felt her cheeks flush hot. “My little sister usually dealt with any spiders back in Brisbane. I always took more of a, um, supervisory role.”

The Hound hummed. “Do you want me to remove your spider, Little Bird?”

The desire to stand strong and take care of the problem herself warred with the equal desire to stay away from something that big with that number of legs.

“Could you catch it for me?” Sansa squeaked, ruthlessly squashing the suspicion that she was letting down womankind by taking the easy option.

He pulled her into his arms properly and bent down for a kiss. She returned the kiss with adrenaline fuelled enthusiasm. He smelled like wattle and honey soap and tasted of toothpaste, so he had obviously had a shower. His hair was still damp under his Akubra, so he wasn’t wasting any time. Sansa would not have minded the typical Stockman aroma of horse, cattle and dust, but she appreciated his consideration.

“Sit tight,” he said against her lips.

She sat heavily on the front step that lead to her cabin whilst the Hound disappeared off towards the smaller accommodations where he stayed as a single man.

He came back with an old five-kilogram margarine tub and a sheet of thick cardboard. “I keep these on hand,” he said. “You should do the same.”

Sansa grimaced as she stood. “Well yes I will from now on.” She paused with her hand on the door. “What if a snake gets in? That would be even worse. I hadn’t thought about all the wildlife out here.”

The Hound shook his head. “City girl. Don’t fucking touch a snake. You get Thoros to remove it. He fucking talks to snakes, the crazy cunt.”

“Alright.” She pushed opened the door and stepped inside cautiously. “It’s behind the bed.”

The Hound raised his eyebrow. “Well we don’t want the bed getting fucked with.”

Despite herself, and the fact she had every intention of getting naked the instant they were alone and spider-free, she blushed at the implication.

He leaned in to whisper into her ear, “I fucking love when you blush.” He nipped her earlobe. “I’m going to make you come so hard.”

Before she could form an intelligible response, he pulled the bed out from the wall with one hand, revealing the many legged interloper lurking behind it.

Sansa winced as the huntsman darted across the wall, but the Hound had quite a burst of speed for such a big man and he clapped the tub against the wall, capturing the spider inside.

“Time for you to go outside,” he said to the spider. “Go and see Thoros. I’m pretty fucking sure he talks to spiders as well.”

Sansa sat on the edge of her bed and jiggled her legs as the Hound disappeared back outside to rehome the huntsman.

After a long month of considering this moment, not knowing if it would ever actually happen again, Sansa was desperately relieved that she was about to be intimate with Sandor. Relieved and profoundly turned on.

The man in question let himself back in and headed to her en-suite to wash his hands.

Sandor carefully placed his hat on her dresser when he came back out. He looked somewhat diminished without it. He sat beside her and lightly rested his slightly damp hand on her thigh.

“I had a wank every night thinking about you,” he said baldly.

“I… I…” she licked her lips and stared into his grey eyes. “I touched myself thinking about you. Every night, too.”

He brushed a gentle kiss across her lips. “What did you think about the most, when you were getting yourself off?”

Sansa should have found this conversation excruciatingly embarrassing. She’d certainly never admitted anything like this in front of anyone before. There was something about the Hound’s honesty and bluntness though, that made her safe to respond in kind.

“How you felt when you were inside of me,” Sansa whispered. “How you made me feel so stretched open and so good.”

He growled in the back of his throat and slid his hand a little way up the delicate inside of her thigh.

“What did you think about?” Sansa asked before the Hound could get too distracted. “When you were,” she glanced down at the obvious bulge at his crotch, “you know…”

“I thought about how your cunt tasted when I put my tongue in it. The sounds you made when I stuck my cock inside of you, the way you felt under me when you came. Sexy as fuck.”

Abruptly, Sansa stood up in front of the Hound and pulled off her sleeveless top and bra in one motion, flinging them heedlessly over her shoulder.

He tugged her to stand between his legs before taking a nipple into his mouth. She tipped her head back and groaned shamelessly before tangling both hands in his still damp hair.

She did not know where this thing they had was going, but there was a sense of rightness about the insane chemistry they had together.

The Hound switched nipples and Sansa pressed herself even closer to him, dragging her fingernails lightly over his scalp.

He pulled back and Sansa couldn’t suppress a small moan of disappointment at the loss of sensation.

“Fuck I need you,” he said.

“Well you can have me,” she replied tartly. “If you move back a bit and get undressed.”

“Bossy Little Bird,” he said as he slid off the bed and started tugging his clothes off. “That’s fucking hot.”

Sansa pulled off her shorts and underwear, then stood naked in front of him, watching as he efficiently stripped.

If anything, her memory did not do his size justice, though she didn’t have time to overthink things before he pulled her against his warm body and kissed her again.

“How do you want me?” he murmured between kisses.

“I want to ride you,” Sansa said shamelessly.

His grip on her tightened and his next kiss was even deeper.

“Fuck yes,” he said before moving to the bed, positioning himself leaning back against her pillows.

Sansa clambered on top of him, trying to not look awkward as she straddled his hairy thighs. She suspected, however, that Sandor would neither notice nor care if she did.

“Oh, the condom,” she said, reaching over to her bedside table drawer for the box she had left there.

He took the packet off her, opened it, and rolled it onto himself efficiently before pausing and looking at her. “Do you want me to get you off first? To make taking me easier?”

Sansa shook her head, trying not to squirm with impatience. “No, I need you now. Right now. Five minutes ago.”

She bent down to grasp him and lowered herself onto him slowly. This part she had remembered accurately as he filled her almost to the point of discomfort but not over.

He flopped back against the pillows and squeezed his eyes shut.

She let out a tremulous breath once he was fully inside of her. “I missed you,” she said shakily, and it surprised her to realise that the sentiment was, in fact, entirely true. She barely knew him, yes, but she had missed him.

He opened his eyes wide and gave her a piercing stare, like he was looking for something in her expression. Then he hummed and nodded, before rasping, “I fucking missed you too,” and pulled her in for a long kiss.

She rested her hands on his broad shoulders for balance and ground herself against him as they kissed, finding a satisfying rhythm as he dug his fingers into the flesh of her hips.

She chased her pleasure, his moans and grunts of approval showing that he was enjoying her being in control, as much as she was. Kissing him as they were so intimately joined was just as good as a month ago. Sansa found herself lost to the sensation of his tongue sweeping into her mouth, his rough hands gripping hard on her hips, his manhood filling her up.

“Can you get off like this?” he said eventually, and Sansa regretted the loss of his kisses.

“I’m so close,” she moaned. “Touch me down there.”

He slid his hand between their bodies, finding her clit with the same unerring accuracy as last time.

She hadn’t thought about Joffrey more than once or twice in the past month, but the stray idea surfaced that Joffrey could have used some lessons in female anatomy from the Hound. She bent to kiss Sandor again so she didn’t giggle at the worst possible time.

His fingers slid slickly over her, mercifully distracting her brain from errant thoughts.

She cupped his face, scars and whole skin alike, and moaned his name into his mouth as she reached her orgasm with his help. Pleasure radiated out from where he stretched her open and where he stroked her.

“Sexy Little Bird,” he said, before they shared a leisurely kiss as Sansa’s entire body tingled with aftershocks.

He wrapped his arms around her and twisted them both so that her back hit the mattress and he was on top. He paused to give her another long kiss before he resumed thrusting. She tangled her hands in his hair to hold him close.

Sansa wrapped her legs around his waist, digging her heels into his bottom. The pull and clench of his powerful muscles as he moved atop and inside of her was irresistible.

The Hound’s body stiffened, and he groaned her name into her ear as he climaxed.

His breath was hot against her hair as he caught his breath, heavy on top of her but still keeping most of his weight on his arms.

He rolled off her after a few moments, tossed the condom into her bin and lay back on the bed, holding out his arms for her to cuddle against him.

Sansa lay her head on his chest, listening to his heart slow down as he relaxed.

“How was droving?” she eventually said, breaking the lengthy, languid silence.

He pulled her tighter against his chest and hummed. “Too fucking long.”

Sansa gave a soft laugh. “It was a very long month.”

The Hound ran his fingers through her hair, stroking softly. “Thoros reckoned he saw a Yowie.”

Sansa had heard tell of Thoros of Mirrigong before Sandor earlier suggested getting his help for ridding herself of any dangerous beasts. He was considered one of the more eccentric characters in a region known for producing colourful rogues and larrikins.

“Do people really believe in those?” she asked.

She knew the tales of Australian cryptids, of course, ancient creatures yanked straight from the Dreamtime into modern sensibilities, but they were just stories.

“Thoros does. Turns out the Yowie was actually Gendry Waters returning buck arse naked from a dip in the billabong.”

Sansa laughed. “Well that’s probably less alarming than an actual ape-man.”

The Hound tugged lightly on his handful of her hair so she would look up at him, then he bent down to give her a gentle kiss on her lips before continuing. “Then Thoros saw a bunyip,” he said.

Sansa rested her cheek back on his chest. “In the billabong?”

His voice rumbled in her ear. “Aye.”

“Was it another naked man? Or an animal? Aren’t bunyips supposed to look a little like big cats? Or rats?”

Sansa vaguely recalled seeing a bunyip illustrated in a children’s book about a bunyip who lived in a creek. She remembered it lived in water and was scary.

“No fucking idea what it was this time.”

Sansa giggled. “Maybe an actual bunyip?”

The Hound snorted. “Not fucking likely.” Then he sobered. “There’s some weird shit out there though. Obviously not a fucking bunyip, but I can see why cunts get jumpy.”

Sansa ran her fingers through his chest hair as she considered this. “Is it all the space? The big sky?”

She hadn’t explored too far from the station in the past month, but enough to get a small idea of how wild the land was the further out from the main inhabited areas. The city had started to make her feel hemmed in with its looming buildings and crowds of humanity, but she could now see the comfort in being surrounded by the trappings of ‘civilisation’. Takeaway food, reliable internet, sealed roads. The brutality of wild country brought with it a permanent faint sense of unease. Not in a bad way, Sansa loved the Outback, but it was vast, beautiful, and wholly unknowable.

“Aye those things and more. The animals calling to each other. The heat. Too many fucking stars, like a thick doona covering the sky above your head.”

“It sounds romantic,” said Sansa dreamily, moving her head to his shoulder and slinging her naked thigh over his. “I’m sure the children would prefer droving in the back country to doing their schoolwork.”

“Romantic.” The Hound ran his hand down and over the smooth skin of her back, settling over her bottom, cupping it. “Nothing fucking romantic about a hairy naked Stockman getting mistaken for a Yowie.”

Sansa pressed herself closer to him. “It would be if he were you.”

“There’s a fucking idea. I’d like to fuck you in the billabong.”

“That sounds like a terrible euphemism.”

His grip on her bottom tightened and he moved his head to kiss her. “Nothing euphemistic about me bending you over and giving you my cock.”

“How would you want to do it then?”

He kissed her again, then growled “roll over,” into her ear.

Sansa did so and Sandor pressed himself full length against her back. She could feel his penis already hard again and ready against her backside. She pushed her hips against him and wiggled them.

“I’d come up behind you when you were bathing,” he murmured into her ear.

“So I’d be naked, outside?” It was a scandalous thought, being bare to the world like that.

“Aye we’d both be naked. I’d press myself against your back and your lush arse.” He did so, to demonstrate. “Then I’d reach down and dip my fingers into your cunt, to see how much you wanted me.”

He moved his hand and lifted her top leg to rest on his thigh, before moving back down to touch her intimately.

Sansa arched her back, unable to suppress the moan when he slid two fingers inside her.

“Then when I knew your cunt was dripping wet and ready for me, I’d bend you over and fuck you from behind.”

Sansa made a groan of disappointment when his hand left her long enough for him to twist around to reach another condom in the drawer, tear it open and roll it on. The anticipation made her fidget.

“You want to be fucked from behind, Little Bird?”

“Yes please,” she answered breathlessly.

He nudged her top leg back into position and sheathed himself inside her in one smooth motion. “Fuck, you take my cock so well,” he rasped

Sansa pressed herself against him in response, loving the sensation of his warm skin against her back instead of her front.

She gripped the sheets to steady herself as he started to move.

His movements inside her were almost leisurely, his hands roaming her body, moving from caressing her nipples, down her stomach, pressing fingertips against her clit then drifting up her hip, ribs and finally nipple again.

There was none of the urgency of the previous coupling. Sansa could focus on the sensations alone instead of the clawing, desperate need for climax. Staring down at his hand, rough and stark against her pale skin, moving reverently over her body. His hairy thighs tucked behind hers, his manhood disappearing into her body like it was destined to be a part of her.

His hand moved between her legs, fingertips ghosting over where they were joined and settling on her clit.

Sansa’s moan in response was louder then and he kissed the back of her head. “You are going to come all over my cock again,” he said, and his rough voice was unbearably sexy.

Sansa let go of the sheets and relaxed into his movements, reaching behind to rest her hand on his body, needing the extra connection to ground herself.

“Make me come then,” she said, her voice sounding almost as raspy as his. “Sandor, make me sing for you.”

“Fuck yes,” he hissed.

Sansa tipped her head forward to watch as he rhythmically rubbed her clit. His movements felt good, very good, but even sexier was the knowledge he wanted her to experience that ecstasy, that he too was focused on how pleasurable everything was for her.

Watching the way he touched her so confidently, so tenderly, was enough to send her over the edge.

She cried out her orgasm, and the Hound held her close as she shook in his arms.

“Fucking sexy,” he murmured.

He gave her a few moments to recover then gripped her hip and pounded into her from behind, roaring out his own climax shortly after.

They stayed in the same position after, drowsy and comfortable. Sandor breathing against the back of her head, his hand gently cupping her breast.

Sansa had never felt so safe.

**Author's Note:**

> Glossary:  
> Billabong – a small lake.  
> Bunyip – a mythical monster that lives in small bodies of water.  
> Doona – duvet, or the white puffy bit inside a quilt.  
> Dreamtime – for Aboriginal Australians, it was the ancient time when their ancestor spirits created the world, and in turn created life, and important geographic markers on the land. Sansa mentions it in passing, but it is an incredibly important part of Australian indigenous cultures.  
> Droving – moving the cattle around huge distances around the Outback. Historically it was usually to market, but in this case they are following the feed.  
> Larrikin – a mischievous but nice sort of person, one willing to disregard social ‘rules’. I would use it as a synonym for ‘cheeky’.  
> Mirrigong – Indigenous Australian word for wild dogs, though in this case it’s the name of a fictional town.  
> Wattle – an Australian native tree. It blooms with small, puffy, bright yellow flowers.  
> Yowie – the Australian bigfoot. 
> 
> Cultural notes:  
> On spiders - Huntsmen do generally hang out at the tops of walls. I’ve seen then hiding behind things before too, and on one memorable occasion, on the front of my washing machine. It’s quite rare to see them in the house though, maybe once every year or two? We get the annual bug spray. Huntsmen spiders are actually harmless (and they keep down the cockroach population), they just look scary because they are so big. The ones I’ve seen were about the size of my hand and yes you can hear them scuttling along the wall if it is quiet.


End file.
